


Brimstone and Light

by name_and_numbers



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christianity, Church innacuracies, Demon Kylo Ren, Demon Kylo Ren has no refractory period, Demon/Human Relationships, Dom/sub Undertones, Eventual Smut, Exorcisms, F/M, For Rey's cervix we pray, He's a demon and she lives in a church, He's gonna stay a demon, Hints of grooming, Hotly Contested Church Topics, Lets pretend I know anything about the catholic church okay?, Loss of Virginity, Masturbation, Religion, Religious Content, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Rey lives in the church, There's no redemption in this, dark fic lite, what did you expect?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:01:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24284785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/name_and_numbers/pseuds/name_and_numbers
Summary: Rey's curious nature often clashes with her world in the church. After all, what good soul devoted to God converses with a demon named Kylo Ren in secret?
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 19
Kudos: 67





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing anything like this and I'm semi terrified. But also excited. Growth is a good thing to be excited about, right?
> 
> I feel it's important to note that THE FEELINGS AND OPINIONS IN THIS STORY ARE NOT MINE. This story is FICTION and does not reflect my thoughts on Christianity in general. I just had an idea and I ran with it. If religious introspection that challenges conventional wisdom isn't your thing, then this ain't the fic for you. But if that sounds remotely interesting to you at all... I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Big thanks to [MyJediLife](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyJediLife/pseuds/MyJediLife) for the beta work, and S.R. for being an enabler. This is your fault. <3

She first noticed him standing outside across the street, a tall figure staring into her window with his hands stuffed into his pockets. Rey didn’t think anything of it, knowing the church she lived in was old and photogenic, prompting many to stop by and admire the red bricks and sloped roof. Plenty had also commented on the playground out back, blocked off by a fence often covered by graffiti. She liked to think there was something hopeful about their stares, that their attention was gained by supernatural forces at work.

She didn’t think it was curious until she saw him again a few hours later, still standing in the same space, hands still in his pockets.

He stared straight at her from a different window. 

Odd, for sure. Maybe he was a tourist with an affinity for churches?

She didn’t have a lot of time to reflect on it, hearing her name called from one of the sisters in the other room. She gently reprimanded herself for spacing out; she had been specifically asked to help with vacation bible school this summer, and her sole purpose was to make sure one of her elders wasn’t left alone in a room full of kids.

_ They need good influences of all ages _ , Father Skywalker had said with a smile.  _ And besides, a room full of children is stressful for anyone older in age, especially those excited for lessons and learning. _

Rey seriously doubted any of the children were eager for lessons and learning. If she found another’s attention leading to the window, she’d have to start bribing them to keep them from trouble. The room looked bored and impatient when she entered, and she gave a hasty apology to Sister Holdo on her way to the chalkboard. She did her best to be the energy and exuberance that kept the children’s attention. Sister Holdo could tell the stories, and she could supply engagement when needed.

However, she found herself the victim of the window’s siren song. Multiple times she had to shake herself out of her thoughts, forcing away the memory of the man standing across the street. Chandrila was a big city, and anyone could be there for any reason they wanted. Any person could stare at God’s house for as long as they wished. Tourist he may not be, but what about a builder, an architect, or one of the homeless? Who was she to judge, after all? Thinking of her position as “good influence,” she turned her back to the window to stop temptation.

Rey knew the truth, though. She had made very good friends with temptation.

Through some feat of strength, she didn’t look out the window for the rest of the lesson, and the rest of the day went so quickly she hadn’t thought to do it again. It was her turn to help in the kitchen, and she’d gotten lost in minor duties that made up her life of servitude. 

It couldn’t last forever.

“You seem distracted,” Holdo finally said, sidling up to Rey as the children ate their final snack of the day. “Is something bothering you?”

“I’m sorry, Sister. It’s nothing in particular. I’m not sure I got enough sleep last night.”

Holdo nodded, buying the lie easily. “Reading late into the night can do that for you. You have an admirable thirst for knowledge, Rey, but be sure you’re allowing your mind a chance to rest, too.”

Rey nodded, unable to look Holdo in the eye. She didn’t expect the older woman to buy her lie so easily, nor be able to pinpoint another secret with such accuracy. She  _ did _ read late into the night, but it rarely happened inside her own closed doors. Her breath caught momentarily, thinking of the moment a few nights ago when she’d barely made it back to her room before being caught past curfew. It was a dangerous game she was playing, and she knew it, but how much more dangerous was the lack of clear truth?

She dismissed the thought. Broad daylight, in front of a sister, no less, wasn’t the time to ponder such things. 

It wasn’t until later, when night covered the city and she left the bathroom after her nightly rituals, that she saw him again.

_ Again. _ The same black clothing - jacket, pants, and shoes - hands still in his pockets. Only now, he stood a story below her, staring straight into the corridor window.

“Kaydel,” she said quietly, not wanting to cause alarm. She waved her fellow counselor over until they were standing side by side. “Do you know who that man is outside? The one all in black?”

The knot in her stomach only grew, waiting for Kaydel to acknowledge what she was seeing. If she hadn’t seen him two previous times, she would have assumed he was some kind of poster board advertising something in the city.

“In the shadows?”

Rey looked at Kaydel, frowning. “No, he’s right there - on the sidewalk across the street.”

Whatever concern Kaydel had completely melted away into confusion. Taking another look out the window, her head swiveling to observe everything she could in their narrow view, she finally shook her head. “... what man in black?”

“Right  _ there _ , he’s…” Rey pointed, outlining his shape. “He’s standing to the left of the streetlight.” She watched as Kaydel blinked and looked out the window again. The stare she got in return said she had decidedly  _ not _ seen someone standing next to the streetlight.

“Rey, are you feeling alright?”

Baffled, Rey rubbed her eyes, double checking the window to make sure her mind hadn’t turned a stain on the window into some kind of shape she could misidentify. Nothing. Her heart started to hammer in her chest. She could understand if there was some kind of shape distorted in her vision, or if this were some kind of dream, but with everything she was, she could swear left and right that there was a man looking at them both right now.

And he was…  _ smiling. _

Unnerved, Rey turned back to Kaydel and plastered a fake grin on her face, hoping she was a somewhat decent actress. “Made you look,” she offered lamely. 

“Really?” Kaydel shook her head. “I should talk with Father Skywalker. You’re spending too much time around the kids.”

“One of them did it to me earlier today. I thought it was amusing.”

“It’s juvenile. You’re too old to play those jokes. Besides, you’re supposed to say it about something silly. Telling me there’s some guy in black outside makes it way too creepy.” 

Rey felt a flush on her face, but it had everything to do with how easily the lie passed from her lips. She’d gotten too good at it lately. “You’re right. I suppose I didn’t think it through. I’m sorry.”

Kaydel gave her an easy smile, zipping up her hooded jacket. “Don’t beat yourself up over it. Nobody will blame you if you can’t nail a joke. A sheltered life will do that to you.” She pulled her phone out of her pocket and looked at the time. “I need to get going. I really do need to speak with Father Skywalker before I get to bed, and  _ you _ need to make curfew on time.”

Rey nodded, holding her toiletries a little tighter to her chest. “Will I see you tomorrow?”

“Nah. I’ve got a doctor’s appointment, but Rose is covering for me.” Kaydel turned on a heel and walked down the corridor, throwing a wave into the air. “Get your sleep, Rey. Another day of hyperactive children is just around the corner.”

Rey stood silently until Kaydel disappeared. Exhaling slowly, she turned her head and looked back out the window. As expected, the man was still there, and he was still smiling. 

That night, she slept with the door locked. She told herself it was to keep up impressions and help hide other secrets. She woke with a headache, having fallen asleep tense, and when she looked to her bedroom window, the man was no longer there.

It was more unnerving that she didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad one.

The feeling stuck with her throughout the weekend. Despite the lingering effects of seeing someone in the same place over a course of several hours (a “creeper,” Rose had called him, though Rey felt that was a little too judgmental without knowing anything about him), his lack of appearance allowed her to slowly reason with herself over who he could be. He probably  _ was _ just a tourist, or architect, and his seeing her in the windows was purely coincidental.

It felt weak even to her own reasoning, but what else did she have? By the time early Sunday morning rolled around, after failing to see him every time she looked at where he last stood, she’d convinced herself she’d never see him again. She tried to dismiss it from her mind as she unlocked the front doors to the church; it was her turn to be the greeter before service, and she immediately smiled brightly at the few early attendees gathered outside. When they passed her, the smile immediately fell.

He was back. He stood on the curb, hands in his pockets, seemingly having no trouble looking at her while the sun was in his eyes. Standing next to the crosswalk signal, she was able to see that he was tall, with long legs and broad shoulders. He made no move to cross the street.

_ This is ridiculous _ , Rey decided. If nothing else, she at least had the excuse that she was to always invite those standing nearby into a place of worship. She nodded in his direction as though his attention ever wavered from her. “Good morning!” She gestured towards the sanctuary with an upturned palm. “You’re welcome to join us, sir.”

The man said nothing. She watched as he stared at her, a chill running down her spine. He finally broke her gaze and took in the building before him, from the cracked and poorly tended steps, to the faded bricks leading to the spire topped with a white, glistening cross. “Not really my kind of place.”

There was no way she should have heard him clearly over the sounds of cars and thumping stereos, but when he spoke, it was as though he was standing right next to her. Rey threw on a smile, trying to think on past experiences with hesitant pedestrians and not the baffling man before her. She could feel how badly it wavered, but maybe he didn’t notice. “Well, whatever you may have heard, this is a place where all are welcome.”

He smirked, revealing a dimple she hadn’t noticed before. “It's supposed to be, isn’t it?”

She was out of her depth. Something about the man and his replies made her feel so incredibly vulnerable that the only logical explanation was that this was something that needed to be handled by a sister, or Father Skywalker himself.  _ What do I tell them? There’s a man that says the church isn’t his kind of place and it’s supposed to be for all? There’s nothing exactly suspicious about that _ . 

Kaydel’s voice floated through her memory. “ _... what man in black? _ ”

She had nothing to plead her case with. She was on her own.

_ Father, protect me. _

“Well,” she started, clearing her throat and trying to smile again. “Our, um, our doors are always open, should you change your mind.”

It was hard to ignore him while she continued to greet others. He lingered in the corner of her vision, like a rock in her shoe that she felt at every twist and turn. The time she was required to spend greeting couldn’t pass quickly enough. When the bell above her tolled the top of the hour, and thus the beginning of service, she was both startled and relieved. Reluctantly, she locked eyes with him one more time, nodding her head politely. Her anxiety only rose when he did the same in return. She turned back to the doors of the church, trying to calm her racing heart.

“Run along, little Rey,” he said in that same, soothing tone as she closed the doors behind her. “I’ll see you again soon.”

Whatever feelings she’d had about this stranger all disappeared as a cold bewilderment settled thick in her stomach. He’d been too far away to hear the quiet greetings from the members of the church, and she’d made a point to keep anything about herself hidden as best she could.

So… how did he know her name?


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm floored by the reception on the first chapter. You guys are so awesome. Thank you so, so much. <3

When she was little, Rey discovered books were her favorite thing in the world. The sisters always recalled with fondness how she stubbornly taught herself to read when they believed she was too young, and attributed it to her fighting spirit. (“Something you’ve had since you were born,” they’d say, though nobody ever told her what that meant.) She’d reread the few children’s books in the nursery until she was introduced to the library, and Rey never looked back. She’d beg to go weekend after weekend, and as long as her chores had been finished, it was considered her reward. Father Skywalker had no problem with her getting out and seeing a bit more of the world through the eyes of fiction, but also told her it would be a good experience to see other people interact. It was how she’d met Rose, and how she’d been able to inform the other girl of the church’s need for vacation bible school volunteers. They’d often meet at the same time, Rose pouring through her studies, while Rey stayed until closing, reading through as many books as she could.

On the days Rose couldn’t meet her, however, Rey would step through the doors of her own sanctuary and seek out a particular section she was too afraid to share. She didn’t know if it was unbecoming of a lady of the church, and since she couldn’t sort through her feelings, she was unwilling to share them. Rey had always known she was different, whether that be odd or just growing up in a more unusual circumstance, but she’d never gathered the nerve to inform anyone that she’d gained an interest in demonology. After all, the Bible was very clear in the matter, and Father Skywalker was always stated life should be lived in accordance with its word. Demons were agents of the enemy, and the cause of torment for millions. There should be no reason to be interested in studying them further.

Taking a nervous sip of the tea she’d purchased on her way, Rey’s eyes darted across the empty floor of the library. Old habits die hard, and though she knew it only made her more suspicious, her curiosity was constantly wound tight with guilt. She was to be an example, a guiding light to those in a lost world. What would they think of her if they knew she was reading books about… evil? Even worse, if she’d been caught sitting in the corner of the room, a copy of her true study hidden by the cover of  _ The Silver Chair _ ?

Then it came, the traitorous thought that always spoke to her in these moments… if it truly  _ was _ evil… why didn’t it ever  _ feel _ that way?

Sighing, she pulled a worn notebook from her bag - a gift Rose had given her when the other saw how many books Rey would borrow at a time - and made another glance at the stairs. The notebook was worn, the metal rings warped from repeatedly being used. The thing rarely saw the light of day, kept in a hidden compartment on the side of her bag. Inside was her own handwriting, detailing page upon page of information she’d gleaned from books and the occasional perusal of the internet. Demons, it had turned out, meant many different things in many different cultures, and her curiosity burned until it was unable to be satiated. It became a search for understanding, something she couldn’t limit to time she had a book in her hands. 

She flipped to a clean page, messily writing the title and the sentence that had caught her attention. It wouldn’t be long before she’d need to purchase a replacement for the notebook.

“It’s adorably innocent of you to think this is a brilliant tactic.”

The voice came from behind her. Startled, Rey dropped her pen, trying to reason how that was possible when all she had to do was lean back to touch the bookshelves. She turned her head, reaching down at the same time to pick up her pen… and was suddenly very close to  _ him _ . She watched, frozen, as he picked up her pen from the floor and held it between them.

“It’s one thing to try the  _ use a book to hide another book _ technique, but not only does everyone know about that, if you do it while sitting in a corner, you’re basically admitting you’re guilty as fuck.”

Rey felt her mouth go dry. His fingers were so long they looked like they could snap her pen in half easily. His hands were enormous -  _ he _ was enormous, taking up all the space behind her chair as he squatted on the floor, with one foot pigeon toed and the other bent under his weight. Long, black hair gently curled at the upturned collar of his jacket, face littered with beauty marks that framed a long nose, plush lips and…

_ His eyes… _

When she didn’t reach for the pen, he stood and dropped it onto the table with a loud clatter. He easily made his way from behind her -  _ it’s just not possible  _ that she hadn’t seen him, he was too big and the space was intentionally too small - and nudged at the leg of the chair next to her, dropping into it with a quiet sigh. He crossed his arms.

Hesitantly, Rey broke his stare and took the pen from the table. “Thank you,” she whispered, returning to her sentence.

He said nothing for a moment, watching her as she continued to write until she realized he wasn’t going to move. She glanced up at him. “So are you?”

Rey blinked. “Pardon?”

“Guilty as fuck.” He smirked. “Are you?”

Her stomach dropped. Instinctively, she hugged the books to her chest. “A-aren’t we all?”

He huffed with laughter, uncaring at his volume, revealing crooked teeth and matching dimples. “Don’t give me a church answer. You know what I’m talking about.” Leaning forward, he rested his arms on the table and whispered, as though sharing a secret, “Anyone who comes up here will know who you are. Conservative dress, simple shoes… they don’t actually  _ make _ you wear a habit, do they?”

Rey frowned. “It’s a sign of my devotion to the church.”

“But you’re not a nun.”

He said it far too matter of factly to be a coincidence. “How do you know that?”

“You spend all of your free time here. If you were really in service to the church, you’d be in that building, learning prayers or whatever it is nuns do.”

He had a point. The clothing was all the church had to offer her, and she was the only woman who lived there who spent as much time in the library as she did. “The habit…” She paused, wondering just how much she should divulge to a stranger who she found staring at her through a window. “I was asked to wear it so that others would know what church I’m a part of.”

He made an exaggerated show of rolling his eyes. “ _ Fuck _ , of course. They let you out to be their walking billboard.”

“I did it because they  _ asked _ .”

“Do you always do as you’re told?”

Any nerves that had lingered around him quickly turned into annoyance. The books in her arms landed on the table with a quiet thud. “I’m not sure what you want from me, but I’d appreciate it if you’d get to your point.”

He settled back into his seat, stretching out his legs and crossing them at the ankles. “I just want you to answer my question.”

“I do what I’m told,” she bit out. “Because it’s the least I can do for people who took me in when--”

“No, not that.” He waved a hand at her. “That’s not what I care about right now.”

A deep wound, carefully hidden away and rarely tended to, felt raw. Rey scowled, emotions long dormant creeping through. “ _ What _ do you--”

“In a public library sits a young woman,” he said patiently, though the look he gave her hinted at utter lethargy. “In front of her she has tea she purchased from a shop next door, a bag that’s been stretched at the seams a little too much, and a notebook covered in quotes and passages from books about demons. However, this young woman doesn’t sit out in the open. She goes to the highest floor that’s available to her and cowers in a corner for hours on end, because she knows, with one look at her attire, people will assume she’s pouring herself into things that are good and right, and she doesn’t want to disappoint them when it turns out she’s been reading about the bad.” His eyes glinted, the hint of a smile playing on the corner of his lips. “After all, how does one explain curiosity with things that are a bit…  _ darker. _ ”

There wasn’t nearly enough air in the room. Rey sat frozen, both nervous and enthralled. When he put it that way, it was easy to see how foolish she’d been with her efforts, and yet he’d managed to describe her inner conflict so accurately that she fleetingly wondered if he could read her mind. He held all the power over her in that moment. It would be so easy to go back to the church and speak to Father Skywalker, tell him what she’d been doing and studying when she should have been reading more of her Bible…

“So, I’ll ask you one more time, little one,” He held the moment out, waiting until she looked him in the eyes. “Are you guilty as fuck?”

… and somehow, conviction made her take a deep breath and tilt her chin ever so slightly. “No,” she answered, ever so slightly louder than a whisper. “I will not be belittled for my curiosity. For wanting to learn.”

Her answer brought a smile out of him, his shoulders gently shaking in quiet laughter. “An excellent answer.” She was staring at smile lines across his face and eyes, feeling her pounding heart stutter all of a sudden, when he reached forward and tapped the book she’d been reading. “Look up Armitage.”

It took her a moment to realize he wasn’t talking about  _ The Silver Chair _ . “Armitage?”

"He has several different names in different cultures, as most demons do. You may also find him under Armitage Hux." He turned, taking a step towards the stacks that made up the rest of the room.

He was such a strange man. She shouldn't feel as drawn to him as she did, or intrigued by his mysterious presence. She should have let him walk away, should have closed her books and left the library right then and devise a plan to make Father Skywalker aware of the stranger in black.

Instead, she said as loud as she dared, "Why do you want me to?"

He'd stopped directly under one of the fluorescent lights. When he turned back to her, Rey was struck again by the thickness of his hair, how pale he was, and the unusually dark color of his eyes. 

He gave her a knowing smirk. "Because I asked."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi on [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/numbers_name)


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rey questions the status quo and does what she was asked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whatchoo up to, Rey?

He may have been mocking her.

That was the only conclusion she could come to after she left the library that evening. He knew where she lived, knew she spent hours at the library, so it only made sense that he thought she was being silly, or indulging in matters beyond her understanding. What didn’t make sense was how he’d shown up out of nowhere, or how he always seemed to know what window she was at when she braved a look outside. And why would he ask her to look up the name of a demon? Did he have knowledge he wanted to share?

He was strange. Intimidating, for sure, yet there was a charm she couldn’t quite understand. As she reflected on their brief conversation, she realized he hadn’t exactly belittled her - his attention to her clothing was something Rose and Kaydel had often brought up, wondering if she had more to wear than just outdated clothing from the church itself - and he seemed  _ satisfied _ that she’d defended her actions. Plus, he’d had a point; the method she was using to study her interests reflected guilt, or something to hide, and would be obvious to anyone who knew her. 

_ Not that there are a lot of people who go to the library that I know, _ she thought wistfully. It was several days later, and time had only brought negativity to her actions. She’d still need to be careful in the church, but when matters came to the public, perhaps she shouldn’t have been as careful as she had been.

“Ah! Had a feeling you’d be assigned to children's church today.”

The little bench Rey had been sitting on was directly in front of the fence that guarded the church’s playground. Through the privacy slabs set up through the rings, she could see Kaydel on the other side, grinning at her broadly. 

“Kaydel? What’re you doing here?” Rey momentarily turned her back to the children in the yard, squinting her eyes in the bright sunlight. “You know you don’t have to be here on Sundays. Come on in.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” Rey watched as Kaydel walked to the gated door, opening it and letting herself in with a friendly smile. “They really make you do this on your own?”

“I don’t mind,” Rey shrugged, taking a look back at the kids screaming through the yard. “There aren’t enough children for it to be a big problem anyway.”

“That’s your nice way of saying you’re dealing with it.” Kaydel glanced around the yard, taking a seat next to Rey and leaning back against the fence. “Does Father Skywalker have you make lesson plans, too?"

"Fortunately, no. Those are saved for VBS. I just watch them drain their energy here so naps at home are easier."

“Pro Bono babysitter.”

“Oh, c’mon. You know it’s the least I can do.”

“Rey, I’ve heard you say that about literally everything you do in this building. It’s okay to get a little upset at the amount of work they ask you to be responsible for. You’re just one person.”

Rey turned her head to look at the playground, staring at a squeaky wheel that gently rotated with the wind. Whatever bolt that secured it to the plastic unit would need to be tightened later. “One person with a lot of time,” she said quietly. The truth was she had asked for help before, but sister Holdo had made the statement in answer. She had no other obligations, and therefore was expected to be able to answer to the church’s beck and call.

Kaydel rolled her eyes, propping an ankle over the opposite knee. It was warm that morning, and Rey envied the tank top and shorts that allowed plenty of breathing room against the humid air. Her own clothing merely reminded her how much she’d been sweating in an area that lacked shade. “That’s such bull--garbage. Taking advantage of someone with a lot of free time doesn’t exactly endear one to a life of servitude. You don’t  _ have _ to do all this.”

Rey sighed. It really was as easy as leaving - she was beyond legal age to take care of herself - but, at the same time… she shook her head. This wasn’t a conversation she wanted to have right now. “I do this because I owe them.”

“Technically, you don’t owe them anything. If we wanna be blunt, they should send you on your way to discover who you are, not use you for convenience and have you wear that-” Kaydel pointed at her dark colored clothing. “-every time you leave the grounds.”

_ They let you out to be their walking billboard. _

Instinctively, Rey lifted her eyes and casually scanned the playground, looking through the slats to see if she could find the man standing nearby. She hadn’t seen him since the library, which ended up being far more disconcerting than comforting. He could be anywhere, and she had no desire to ask anyone if they’d seen him. A baffled look from the woman next to her was enough to keep him a secret for now. She recalled his easy smile, his vulgar tongue, and the request he’d made before he left. At the very least, it was nice to have someone to talk to about her interests, whether or not it was appropriate.

“I’m sorry,” Kaydel said quietly, putting a hand on her back. “I’m not trying to upset you. I know it’s a tough topic and I should leave it alone.”

“It’s not that,” Rey slouched forward and pulled at a thread on her sleeve. A question hung between them, but Rey wasn’t sure how to ask. For a moment she was worried about being called out, maybe even scolded for her thoughts, but of all the people who she knew, Kaydel was the most radical in terms of her beliefs - and probably the safest as a result. “Do you… do you ever feel like you’ve lived your life certain of something, and then one day, it’s like you end up questioning so many things that you can’t help but wonder what’s the difference between the truth you know and reality?”

Kaydel paused a moment before chuckling quietly. “That seems like a really specific question.”

“I guess it is.” Nerves tangled in her stomach as she carefully thought through her words. “I suppose what I’m really asking is… do you believe there comes a point where you have to stop asking questions?”

“No.” Kaydel’s immediate response made Rey turn to look at her. “I think the most dangerous thing  _ is _ when people stop asking questions. It’s why my relationship with this is so complicated.” She made a gesture towards the church. “Most churches I’ve gone to seem to want you to ask questions until they can’t answer them, and yeah, I get a lot of that is faith, but… it’s really messy. I don’t know how I feel about it overall, but I think the moment someone tells you to stop being curious is the moment you shouldn’t trust them.”

“Ever?”

Kaydel shrugged. “Depends on the situation, but in a church? It feels a little manipulative to me.” She stood and pulled out her phone, barely giving Rey a moment to process her words. “Service is almost over. Honestly, Rey? Your curiosity is one of your best qualities. You know Rose and I are happy to answer any questions you have about anything, right?”

_ Probably not about this _ , Rey thought wryly, but nodded her head and stood, instructing the kids to line up at the door. “I know, and thank you. I’ve just been thinking a lot lately.”

“Good. Think a lot, and be more of a brat to Father Skywalker, would you? These are too many kids for one of you. If they gang up on you, you’re toast.”

It was hours later, picking the lock of Father Skywalker’s office in the cover of night, that Rey felt like she couldn’t have been more of a brat if she’d tried. When the latch clicked and the handle turned in her grip, she felt childish for ever thinking what she did in the library was scandalous compared to what she was doing now.

Curiosity, however, was her greatest strength - as well as her worst enemy. Her fingerprints were all over the church, including the selection of the very lock she’d just picked, assuring herself more ventures into his office to use his computer. Everything she’d done was with the intent of making her investigations easier; the timing and route to get from her bedroom to his office, as well as the time she had to use the internet, was all perfected by years of practice.

Guilt had long settled in her bones. This was the dumbest thing she’d done, and yet the easy access to the internet was hard to ignore.

Closing the door behind her, she started up the computer and immediately set up a private browser, beginning her search for the name Armitage. It took her longer than she would have liked to sort through her search options and find the appropriate wording, but eventually she settled on a series of articles she was looking for. There was indeed a demon named Armitage, though some cultures called him Hux, and the most elaborate information she could find on him was the theory he fell when Lucifer was cast from Heaven.

In fact, the majority of information she could find all stated they weren’t sure Armitage even existed. If he did, he hadn’t been seen in a very long time. Frowning, Rey glanced at the clock and closed the browser, making sure everything had been the way she’d found it before sneaking out the door and locking it again. In the time it took her to get back to her room, she couldn’t figure out what the purpose was of looking for that particular demon, or what the man even wanted her to do with the information. She’d assumed he’d be some kind of clue for her to follow to some kind of answer… but what?

A gust of wind rattled the window next to her bed, gently shaking the leaves of the few house plants she’d tended to. She found she couldn’t look away, mystified by the possibility he’d be standing out there, hands in his pockets, waiting to hear what she had to say about her findings. Her heart pounded in her ears as she stepped closer, shifting her feet to avoid creaking parts of the floor, finally face to face with the window and its humidity streaked surface.

When she opened it and looked outside, she was met with a familiar smile.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which indulgence is had...

In what was probably the most ridiculous decision she’d made in some time, she'd dressed for bed away from the window. Logic reasoned she did so because that was what people  _ did _ , but the thrill that shot through her at seeing his face again told her otherwise. For some inane reason, she was happy to see him, and his smiling face made it easy to pretend he felt the same. It also made her hyper aware of her own feelings toward the stranger - she didn’t even know his name, for crying out loud. Feeling self conscious, she’d crept into the corner of the room as far as she could to change.

The thought was still bothering her several hours later, the cool breeze stirring her hair every so often and tickling her face. Why did it matter to her so much that she held his attention? A man in black, who knew where she was at all times within the church (somehow) and knew her schedule enough to call her out on it (someway) - but had also never made any threatening gesture towards her - instead engaging her without judgment in a way she couldn’t shake.

Rey sighed. Her own self evaluation was doing nothing to ease her mind. If anything, her imagination put her back into the library, sitting alone with him with books as their only company. He’d been close when he’d picked up her pen for her, the smell of cigarette smoke faint on his jacket, his size almost intimidating - if it wasn’t so oddly comforting. She scoffed at herself.  _ Comforting _ . She was three words away from turning into those trashy romance novels Kaydel pretended she didn’t read.

Still… she couldn’t stop how flattered she felt that someone was blunt with her. Most people tended to treat her with more respect than she needed. Her clothing was a barrier between their true thoughts (or indifference) but he’d gone ahead and challenged her, not intimidated by what her clothing might suggest, or not caring overall. He’d reclined, relaxed, looked her in the eyes with honesty,  _ smiled _ … oh, that smile would be the death of her if she thought about it for too long. She could hear the potential praise that would come from him, proud that she’d done what he’d asked, and maybe he would lean forward and let his eyes lazily move over her form, wondering what she’d look like if she dressed differently…

Rey groaned, closing her eyes in frustration. First she tried to think logically about what this man wanted from her, then catapulted him into her own fantasies. A slight shift of her hips confirmed what she already knew - she was wet.

Lust was a long familiar companion in the darkness of her bedroom. She could feel its tendrils sneaking towards her, flooding her mind and body with the familiar sensation, from the ache in her nipples to the throb at her core. As always, words from both Sister Holdo and Father Skywalker fluttered through her mind;  _ touching oneself isn’t natural, and must be held off in the fight against lust and sin. _

As always, she ignored them.

She smoothed her hand along her side, imagining a palm larger and warmer, alternating between her fingertips and their backs. His fingers had seemed so large holding her pen, so it seemed reasonable to think he would span her stomach easily. For certain, he’d reach her breast much faster, and she squeezed it gently in her palm, catching her nipple between her fingers. Would he care that she was so small? Would he look upon her and be disappointed she had small breasts, and an even smaller frame? 

His voice calling her  _ little one _ filtered through her memory, immediately putting the pieces of her fantasy in place. She whimpered quietly, bringing her other hand down to the apex of her thighs. Her eyes drifted shut, and she focused on the details she knew about him; he’d be beside her, still dressed in his jacket and dark clothing, one knee on the bed while a hand next to her head held his weight. His face hovered just above the skin of her neck, tantalizingly close and achingly far away.  _ Couldn’t wait for me, could you? Hmm? _ He never touched her, hovering just out of her reach while she slipped a finger into her folds. 

_ Sweetness. _ She sighed.  _ So sweet for me. Using those little fingers to touch yourself. Are you wet, little one? _

“Yes,” she gasped, and in her mind’s eye he gave her a smirk, leaning just a bit more over her. She could imagine how the fabric of his jacket would scratch against her skin, and felt it brush over her aching nipple.

_ Of course you are. So good. _ His lips hovered over hers, mingling his breath with hers, before his smirk grew into a full smile, retreating back to her neck.  _ Hmm, I love knowing what I do to you. You’d take me so well.  _ His sigh was so real she felt it in her clit, finally bringing her fingers to rub at it quickly, hips arching off the bed.  _ Good girl, just like that. Maybe one day I’ll get a taste of those fingers. I’ll even watch them work, just to know what you’d like. Would you like that, Rey? _

“ _ Yes _ ,” she breathed, biting her lip to stop the moan that threatened to leave her.

_ So obedient. Maybe I’ll tell you what to do so I can watch you drive yourself mad. You’d let me, wouldn’t you? _

It wasn’t a question. Her body trembled, writhing against the rough sheets. Her hand left her breast to grab her pillow, holding it over her face as her release drew near.

_ So good, little one, so good. You’re beautiful like this. _ She could feel his breath in her ear, the entreatment in his voice. Though she didn’t act on the fantasy, she imagined him moving the pillow from her face and locking their eyes.  _ Come now. Come for me, little one. _

The pleasure radiated from her core outward, forcing her to clamp her pillow hard over her mouth as she moaned and clenched on nothing. Her fingers struggled to maintain their rhythm, only able to draw out so much before she couldn’t handle the sensitization and stopped entirely. Her body was buzzing, the pleasurable ache filling her and leaving her breathless.

With a final sigh, she moved the pillow and breathed into the cool night air. Her mind and body were both sated enough with pleasure that she knew she’d have little problem falling asleep. She knew she should feel guilt - she’d committed a sin and indulged in her lust - but for the moment, she didn’t care. She’d ask forgiveness tomorrow. 

Her eyes opened and stared at the wooden ceiling, dimly lit by the light of the street lamps outside. For a moment, she took in the knots and swirls, lazily wondering at the designs of the trees the beams had been made from. The wood was primed, a rich muddy color that looked almost red in the light… and the realization struck her so hard, she didn’t breathe.

That’s why she couldn’t stop thinking about his eyes. She’d told herself they were a dark brown, despite their strange hue that made her think otherwise, but every time she’d caught them in the light, she second guessed herself. When he looked at her in the library, it was as close and as clear as it had ever been. They were dark and brilliant, but the hue she noticed wasn’t a chocolate or whiskey brown.

His eyes were red.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/numbers_name)


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